Demi
by Rustystrings12
Summary: If the mutants of the X-men comics were born in a different time, would they be feared and oppressed, or worshiped and followed?


**Demi**

 **-Prologue-**

Each of us is a product of the time which we live in. A white man can be a homosexual civil rights activist in his lifetime, had he been born a year earlier he could just as easily have been a racist heterosexual bigot. Just as he could've been blind had he been born before modern medicine, as he could've been killed in utero if his mother turned right instead of left at the intersection, his very existence was determined all because of one decision. One moment in time, when his father decided he'd wear his dress shoes instead of tennis shoes to the party, when his mother noticed that she felt hungry the exact second she did. The fact that both of these people went to the same party, in the same town, in the same state, in the same country, on the same continent, in the same hemisphere, on the same planet, in the same solar system, in the same galaxy, in the same universe.

In simplest terms, in the same lifetime. I do not know this man, I simply fabricated him. I'm not one to say if he's a liberal or a conservative, a reader or a writer, a player or a listener, or even if this man exists. But I understand the possibility that he might. And because that possibility exists, so must he.

I'm falling off track here.

The point is, our personality is made by the experiences we have and the experiences we have are determined by the time we live in. The debate of how the time we live in is determined is one that has caused many a war, murder, and shameful night. But that's a different topic.

 **-Other Prologue-**

As every schoolchild knows, Ancient Greece was a mighty force to be reckoned with in its time. Within Greece there was a mountain known as Olos Olympos, or Mount Olympus as we know it now.

It was believed by the Greeks that atop this mountain of course their Gods resided. What the Greeks didn't understand however were Neurotheta Power Conductors. Only recently being discovered by Dr. Herbert Asker while on a trek up to the top of Mount Olympus, at the time of the Greeks there were high levels of Neurotheta power on its highest peak.  
Neurotheta power is related to the Placebo effect in that the human mind is capable of things the users of those minds don't realize. Typically witnessed in houses of worship or Universities or cult gatherings, Neurotheta power is the ability many minds have to bend reality when they all accept something untrue as the truth.

Now, simply believing in something doesn't make it exist, but when large groups of people all are lead to hold something as truth within themselves, when all minds are in agreeance that there is power where there isn't power, then power begins to exist.

Furthermore because there have been billions of people of all different beliefs, that is still not means to say that any God does or doesn't exist. Typically Neurotheta power causes a reaction that those who trigger it don't expect, or it is a skewed version due to the inevitable inherent doubt that even the strongest believer encounters.

A Neurotheta power conductor is an item or place that is the product of large amounts of Neurotheta concentration. Such as a crucifix, or the necronomicon, or a "haunted" house causing feelings of dread or hope and possibly hallucinations or actual physical manifestation.

The ancient Greeks had no room for doubting their myths. Due to this, Mount Olympus became one of the strongest Neurotheta power conductors in human history, alongside the Giza Pyramids and a handful of others all from ancient civilizations. Many key religious events occurred because of high moments of belief being expressed alongside one of these conductors. So of course, the highest point is where it all begins to go downhill.

Petra Raptis was a young man, even by the standards of the time. A 12 year old Macedonian boy, he was strong as a grown man, as you'd need to be in his time. Horse taming and chariot racing were his passions, farming his work. His feet and skin were thick as leather, but his head was half as thick. He was a clever young man and understood how to survive in his world and who he needed to be.

As we know it now the year was 464 BC, the day as documented was April 14th. A work day for the Raptis family as most were. While tending to the wheat fields Petra's friend Solon came rushing to him with news, "Petra! Petra! You must hurry! At the base of Olympos! A pack of wild horses! They're so beautiful and perfect we have to try and get a few of them!"

Petra had had an itch to join his friend.

 **(As the narrator of this story I feel that it's necessary to point out how cheesy this is. There isn't very much you can do with Ancient Greek preteens and their dialogue. I just get the feeling that they're not very funny people, at least by modern standards.)**

He was fully aware that he was needed on the farm, but he just loved taming horses so much. It was just his favorite thing to do so he just said "Alright.". Without thinking about it, he went off with his friend. He wasn't trying to be rebellious, he loved working on the farm, he just especially loved horse taming. And it was fairly obvious that the horse could prove beneficial to the farm in many ways, for a plow, for sale. There was no reason for Petra not to go he thought.  
They arrive at the base of Olympus and there's not a horse to be seen. "What the Hades dude" Petra asks. "Oh c'mon Petra," Solon replies, "We have to live a little. All we are is dust in the wind."

"How exactly are we planning to live, Solon? It's only now occurring to me how bad of an idea it was to just leave. They're probably worried sick back at the farm, and what will I have to make up for their worry Solon?" Petra began to ramble as he does when he gets stressed. "A story" Solon replies, "you'll have one Hades of a story that's for sure. You and me, we're gonna climb Olos Olympos."

The statement was so ridiculous to Petra he couldn't even begin to process it before he found himself questioning Solon, "Really? I'm sorry to break the news to you, but, while you may be dust in the wind, I think I'm a more set in stone than that. I'm not looking to piss off the Gods just so we can have some sort of adventure. I'm sorry Solon but I can't, and I don't think you should either."

Solon had a million things to say about Petra being a slave, about how he was dust already blowing away, but he knew none of it would convince Petra to climb with him. Solon simply began to climb the mountain with no regard for Petra.

Just as he guessed, after a few minutes of transitioning between "Petra come down! I don't want you to get hurt! You can hardly climb a hill let alone the highest mountain in all of Greece!" and "Seriously Petra you're gonna cause far more harm than anything. Get down here now! You're gonna piss off the Gods and end up flooding the whole town or something or getting struck by Zeus' lighting! It isn't worth it!" Petra began to climb after his friend.

The two played Cat and Mouse for about half an hour, their ancient survivalist endurance keeping them fit as they climbed, a fairly slow but reasonable pace, and reached Aghios Antonios, the highest peak believed to be reachable by the Ancient Greeks. From that point, the highest peak on the entire mountain was viewable. As Solon reached the top and Petra soon followed, they then stood there for a moment, gazing at the Throne of Zeus.

"According to our books and our elders, the son of everything and King of all lives," He points, one eye closed, "right there."

"Yes I am fully aware. Now lets go we're being disrespectful enough coming up here without an offering." Petra snapped.

"Oh I got an offering for ya right here." Solon gives the Throne of Zeus the finger.

Petra smacks his hand down, Solon chuckling, "Are you serious!? Do you have any ability to think at all!? Do you want us to die up here!?" Petra asserted.

"Are _you_ serious? You seriously think we're going to be smote by the Gods?" Solon retorts. Frustrated, Petra replies, "Yes. I also think you're faithless, I think you're a bad friend, I think you're disrespectful and I think you're an idiot."

"Well I think you're a slave," said Solon, finally cracking, "I think you believe whatever the elders say you should, I think you believe in all that oracle bullcrap just because they tell you to. And you know what else I think? I think I'll prove it all wrong right now." Solon said slyly.

"Feel free." Petra grimly replied.

With a scoff Solon turned and walked from Petra, facing the Throne of Zeus, "GREAT AND POWERFUL ZEUS," Solon shouted, his arms extended, his neck cocked back towards the skies, "SHOVE IT YOU WHITE BEARDED, PANSY ASS, BIRD FUCKING, INBRED ASS, INCESTUAL, LITERAL MOTHERFUCKER. C'MON! SMITE ME! HAVE YOUR MIGHTY LIGHTNING BOLTS PIERCE THROUGH THE SKIES AND INTO ME! SEND ME TO YOUR BROTHER BEFORE YOU FUCK HIM TOO!"

Then silence. In silence Solon stood, his arms extended in triumph, Petra starring his friend down, wishing he could strike him down himself. Sweat beating down Petra's neck, and while he'd never admit it Solon felt it too. The gentle drop sliding down his neck, to his shoulder, down his- BANG.

Solon felt his body freeze, arms extended, he felt himself fall out of his own mind, he could hear nothing but ringing and feel nothing but adrenaline. Then he noticed, he was unscathed. He looked down at his body and pulled his arms back in, while he felt uneasy and lightheaded, he was fine.

He felt no pride, and turned to his friend Petra for nothing but affirmation of his shock, when he noticed, his friend was lying on the ground, smoke rising from his chest. Solon nearly fainted but kept his head about him. He ran and kneeled beside his fallen friend, "Petra, oh my Gods are you alright?"

Petra responded with a blank stare, Solon kneeled there, frozen with guilt that he may have killed his friend. Slowly he saw Petras gaze turn to pain, "Get...me...home" he wheezed.

Solon nodded, he dug his hands beneath his friends back, sure that he could carry him down the mountain with minimal straint. When he attempted to lift him, to his surprise his friend only came a few inches off the ground, before Solon couldn't lift him any higher. Attempting to slowly place him back down, Solon felt Petra's body grow progressively heavier and thud back down to the dirt, crushing his hands.

Confused and terrified, Solon painfully dragged his hands out against the dirt beneath his impossibly heavy friends immobile body.

Just as he freed himself, Petra began to writhe in pain. Not shouting but rather forcing out painful wheezes and coughing uncontrollably.

Solon was at a loss, he had no idea how to control what was happening, he knew he needed to find help. He saw no choice but to leave his friend there, just long enough so that he could find help.

"I can't pick you up Petra I-I don't know what's wrong or what's happening. I think I need to go find some help…"

Petra's wheezing began escalating into throaty, raspy screeches. Then Solon saw, he saw Petra's skin changing to a grey tint, he saw it spread from the lightning strike outwards, Petra's skin was becoming iron.

Solon ran. He ran down the mountain, exhausting and injuring himself all the way to the bottom of the rocky cliffside, he reached the Raptis family farm within no more than fifteen minutes.

Searching for breath he explains to Petra's father only what he needed to hear, he explains that they'll need more men to carry his son back.

With no time for anger, confusion or scolding, Petra's father, brother and uncle all came rushing with Solon leading the group up the mountain.

This time they managed to reach the peak where Petra was left within ten minutes they see boulders falling to pieces as if they had been freshly smacked by a large hammer, and they see footprints pressed into the rocky mountain top floor, leading to a cave. Out from the cave they hear the echoes of someone gently weeping. They follow the footsteps.

"Petra! Petra! Is that you?" They shout into the darkness. "Don't come any closer!" They hear in bitter response. An angry voice, but a familiar one. Solon begins to back away, while the others continue to approach. "Petra, we're your family. Come out from there."

In return they are met with more angry shouts. Strangely, his shouts sounded all the more powerful, with each hiss and wale the men felt vibration in their feet all through their bodies. Still, unafraid of their son, brother, and nephew, the men continue forward, all but Solon. Just as they got close enough to see what became of the boy they once knew, it was too late.

"I SAID NO CLOSER!" Petra shouted as he swung at his brother. Forgetting his new found strength, his brothers body flew against the cave wall, and fell lifeless to the stone floor. The force from the body hitting the wall along with the relentless shout was more than enough, the cave began to collapse. Shocked, Petra's father stood paralyzed, unable to think at all of what is happening. Petras uncle however, began running for the mouth of the cave, where he saw Solon standing just outside.

He ran towards the light as fast as he could, but he had been too far in.

Having slain his own brother, Petra then caused the death of his own father and uncle, crushing them beneath the stone.

Solon felt his body leave itself again as this unfolded before him. He thought of how this was all caused by his recklessness, his stubbornness. He heard rumbling from the collapsed cave. Moments afterwards, he collapsed himself. Falling unconscious.

When Solon awoke, he found himself just outside of a neighboring town. He pulled himself up and looked around to gain his bearings. In the auburn dirt he saw footsteps leading to his body, then they seemed to turn and walk in the opposite direction of the town, and lead on forever. In front of his feet he saw traced in the red soil, " **Συγχώρεσέ με. Σε συγχωρώ.** " and a large hand print pressed in right beside it, with the initials "P.R." on the palm.


End file.
